Please Don't Be My Neighbor
by Red Witch
Summary: The Figgis Agency is having trouble with their neighbors. Or more accurately, their neighbors are having trouble with them.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has moved away. Just more arguments why the gang moved back to New York. **

**Please Don't Be My Neighbor **

"Why do we have to have a meeting?" Lana groaned as the gang sat in the Figgis Agency bullpen. "These things are waste of time."

"Well we don't have any clients today," Cyril said. "It's not like we have anything better to do but waste time!"

Krieger nodded. "Man has a point."

"You're saying we get paid for sitting around in meetings," Cheryl blinked. "Oh, like a lawyer."

"Yes, but without all that bothersome legal stuff or education," Cyril rolled his eyes. "Or any kind of logical thinking at all."

"Sweet," Cheryl grinned.

"You realize we don't get paid as much as lawyers, right?" Lana asked.

"That's because they go to school for that stuff and have a degree, right?" Cheryl asked.

"Close enough, yes," Lana sighed.

"Wow the education system in this country really is a huge racket," Cheryl blinked.

"Let's just get this over with," Ray sighed. "Before the warranty expires on Cheryl's brain."

"Oh, that thing ran out **years **ago," Cheryl waved.

"All right," Cyril sighed as he looked at some papers in his hand. "The big news: Another day, another fine by the Neighborhood Association."

"What are those bitches complaining about **now**?" Pam groaned.

"Well for starters," Cyril sighed. "Remember yesterday when I asked you to pass out more flyers? And you and Krieger came up with that **brilliant **solution to use that giant wind machine on the roof?"

"That was pretty cool," Pam grinned. "We ended up papering the sides of half the buildings on the block. And some people."

"That led to the Neighborhood Association serving us with some papers," Cyril grumbled. "As well as a separate fine for littering."

"Oh boy…" Ray groaned.

"Also, Krieger," Cyril sighed. "You've been issued a fine for having a pig in a business neighborhood."

"How would they know **that**?" Krieger asked.

"Well the security footage of you walking a glowing radioactive pig at night from several buildings is a clue," Cyril said sarcastically. "As well as Piggly leaving several little piles of glowing poop on their property."

"That would do it," Ray nodded.

"And on the same subject Cheryl," Cyril sighed. "You've been fined for walking Babou around the district at night."

"Why would you bring Babou around **here?"** Lana asked.

"To help me pick up guys," Cheryl said. "Duh!"

"Spoiler alert," Ray said. "It didn't work."

"I thought it would be a conversation starter," Cheryl protested.

"It was," Ray said. "Most of them starting with _AAAAAH! Get that ocelot away from_ _me!_"

"While we're on Cheryl…" Cyril looked at another letter. "There is **another** letter they sent us mentioning the uptake in incidents with fires since we moved here. They mentioned several incidents which I'd like to add they can't prove but suspect we had something to do with them."

"Can't prove it, didn't do it!" Pam called out. "Lawyered."

"They also suspect that we had something to do with the rash of dumpster fires that has been going on these past few weeks," Cyril looked at Cheryl. "Again, they can't prove it but they can connect the dots."

"Look I admit the second one by that advertising office was me," Cheryl admitted. "But only because I thought it belonged to a horrible bitch that I went to school with who was always putting me down. Turns out it was not her. They just happen to have the same name. In my defense, how many people named Shiklebonk **are** there in the world?"

"How many?" Ray asked.

"Fifteen in LA **alone!"** Cheryl said. "Who knew?"

"Cheryl…" Cyril began.

"I only did the second one!" Cheryl snapped. "The first, third and fifth one was somebody else!"

"What about the **fourth one**?" Lana asked.

"That one was Pam," Cheryl said. "I was only an accessory in that one."

"PAM!" Cyril, Lana and Ray shouted.

"What? I was trying a barbecue recipe!" Pam protested.

"In a _dumpster_?" Ray was stunned.

"Talk about a time saver," Krieger quipped.

"It's not what you think," Pam said. "First it was a clean dumpster with nothing in it. I saw this thing online about how to barbecue ribs in a clean dumpster…"

"Oh, dear God…" Cyril groaned. "You didn't."

"She did," Cheryl nodded.

"I admit something went wrong in the execution," Pam remarked. "But hey! It was already in a dumpster so that saved everybody a trip!"

"That also explains this ordinance about the smells that come from this building," Cyril sighed. "Complaining of a barbecued warped meat smell."

"Honestly I don't even notice it anymore," Krieger shrugged.

"It does smell better than the smog outside I'll give her that," Ray nodded.

"AJ likes it," Lana sighed.

"So do a lot of guys," Cheryl agreed.

"Not to mention this fine for improperly disposing of hazardous waste," Cyril sighed.

"Hey wait a minute!" Krieger snapped. "They can't prove it was **me!** I made sure to dump all that stuff in sewers away from the block! And I put the rest in dumpsters behind buildings with no security cameras! They can't prove it was me!"

"It's not **you**," Cyril said. "Apparently Pam has been sneaking out and using the bathrooms in a few office buildings."

"Only on days I have chili," Pam protested. "I promised you I would cut down."

"You have chili every other day," Ray said.

"For me that is cutting down," Pam said. "But I did promise I would take it easier on our toilets."

"By overflowing and breaking **everyone else's** toilets?" Cyril asked. "How do you get into those buildings anyway?"

"Security in a lot of those places is really bad," Pam admitted. "Sometimes I also schedule a business meeting only to cancel at the last minute."

"After you do **your business**?" Lana asked.

"Exactly," Pam nodded. "But I think they're starting to catch on."

"They **have** caught on!" Cyril snapped. "That's what the fine is for! As well as some bills to remove some of the toxic odors you leave behind."

"Okay in my defense," Pam spoke up. "A chili covered three bean salad with onions and roasted garlic is a lot tastier than it sounds."

"We're lucky our toilets are still standing," Ray groaned.

"Moving on," Cyril sighed. "From the topic of bowel movements…This fine for vandalism. **Ray!**"

"WHAT?" Ray gasped. "I am **shocked**! Shocked that you would suggest such a thing!"

"Come on Ray," Lana said. "We all know it was **you** that trashed that ani-gay marriage headquarters down the block."

"And filled it with pink marshmallow topping," Pam added. "In one night."

"Gee I wonder who else has super speed and the skills to do **that**?" Krieger said sarcastically.

"They can't prove it was me!" Ray sniffed. "I bet they don't have any security footage of me doing that do they? They didn't see me on any footage, did they?"

"They didn't," Cyril said. "They followed the glitter trail from the building right to our back door!"

"Dukes!" Ray grumbled. "Glitter is a great medium but it's a bitch to wash off!"

"Ray, I'd like to say something," Lana said. "While I think it's great that you're channeling your inner activist. I'd appreciate it if you weren't so destructive about it."

"I don't know why y'all are picking on **me!**" Ray protested. "Pam's the one who tagged the Hollywood Sign **three **times!"

"You tagged the Hollywood Sign **again?**" Cyril shouted.

"Snitch!" Pam glared at Ray.

"You wrote Sploosh and made dolphin pictures all over it!" Ray snapped. "Anyone who looks at the morning news could put two and two together!"

"It's also on the front page," Lana took out a newspaper. "Ray's right. That's a little **too **obvious, Pam."

"This whole group is getting too obvious!" Cyril snapped. "Case in point, Milton wracked up another fine. Apparently, it's illegal for toasters to drive on the freeway."

"How did he get out?" Ray asked.

"How does **anything** happen around here?" Cyril threw up his hands. "I'm seriously asking."

"Is Milton in the impound lot again?" Pam asked.

"I was wondering where he was," Cheryl realized.

"Honestly we could use a break from Milton," Cyril said. "Besides we all know he's going to somehow break out on his own so…"

"I see your point," Pam nodded. "You're trying to be economical. Good call."

"He is a brave little toaster, isn't he?" Ray remarked.

"This is getting **ridiculous**," Lana said to the others. "You guys are getting completely out of hand! You have to stop acting like lunatics!"

"I'm glad you said that Lana," Cyril said smoothly. "Considering you're responsible for **four **of these citations!"

"FOUR?" Cheryl gasped.

"What?" Lana gasped.

"Busted!" Ray snickered.

"How did Miss Priss get **four citations** and I only technically got **two and a half?**" Cheryl snapped. "I'm the bad girl here! This is an outrage!"

"What did I do to earn **four citations**?" Lana barked.

"Well this fine for a violation of the noise ordinance for starters," Cyril told her.

"What?" Lana snapped.

"Those feet of yours are kind of loud," Pam nodded.

"Not that," Cyril said. "Remember a couple days ago? When you were yelling at Pam outside at the top of your lungs."

"She was drawing obscene pictures on the side of our building!" Lana snapped.

"In chalk!" Pam said. "The human body is a beautiful thing!"

"Yours **isn't,**" Cheryl said. "I mean I appreciated those interesting positions you were having with those guys you drew. But did you have to put yourself in them?"

"Which led to another fine for obscenity," Cyril sighed. "Thank you very much Pam!"

"So why am I being blamed for **that?**" Lana protested. "I even cleaned up the side of the building."

"Because apparently while you were washing it off with a power washer you happened to hit a few members of the Neighborhood Association on the sidewalk!" Cyril groaned. "Which lead them to hit you with a violation of the noise ordinance as well as assault with a garden hose."

"I only hit them because Cheryl was trying to grab it from me!" Lana protested. "It was an accident."

"I was just trying something new," Cheryl admitted. "I wanted to see if I could compete in a wet T-shirt contest…"

"With those puppies you'd have been better off in a Gilligan Look Alike Contest!" Pam snorted.

"I did pretty well!" Cheryl said. "I got a lot of attention that day!"

"So did me and Lana!" Pam grinned. "That hose got us pretty wet!"

"You got attention all right," Cyril groaned. "From the Neighborhood Association. Huh. That explains this lascivious conduct charge the three of you got."

"YES! Back on top!" Cheryl called out.

"Phrasing! Boom!" Pam grinned.

"Those three charges weren't my fault!" Lana pointed to Pam and Cheryl. "Those two roped me into the whole thing with their crazy antics! They're the ones responsible."

"But they're **not **responsible for threatening Mr. Packenelli down the street!" Cyril shouted.

"Isn't that the **dry cleaner**?" Ray asked. "The one that doesn't get the stains out of the clothes half the time?"

"I wasn't **threatening** him," Lana said. "I just expressed my extreme displeasure at a shoddy job. And said I would take my business elsewhere if he didn't live up to his promises."

"So, you **didn't **say…" Cyril looked at the paper. "And I quote…_If you don't get these_ _stains out this time, it will be __**your**__ clothes stained with blood!" _

"It's not like I held a gun to him," Lana grumbled.

"No, you just balled your massive hands into a massive fist," Cyril remarked.

"Ooh! Sexy!" Cheryl giggled.

"You're not **that **innocent Cyril!" Lana snapped. "I **know **about what happened in the elevator at that new Stamp Museum down the block!"

"I think by your tone we can **all** figure out what happened in that elevator," Ray quipped. "He got banned too, didn't he?"

"Yuup," Lana nodded.

"How did you find out about **that**?" Cyril gasped.

"Guess whose nephew was on the **same tour**?" Lana gave him a look. "And couldn't wait to blab about it to me."

Cyril grumbled. "I never did like Mr. Packenelli. Not only doesn't he clean the clothes right, he's a gossip!"

"Let's just cut to the chase," Ray spoke up. "We **all **did something to tick our neighbors off. How long do we have to pay these fines?"

"Five months," Cyril said. "They'll send a second notice after the first month. Another notice after the second month. Another notice after that. Then a final notice after that. And then they'll call in the lawyers who will present a notice. And then a judge will probably set a trial date."

"Oh well then there's no problem," Pam said. "We may not even be **in business** in the next five months!"

"Yeah it's more likely we're going to leave town **way** before then," Krieger nodded. "Especially if they trace back some of those containers back to me."

"**What** containers?" Cyril snapped.

"Don't worry about it," Krieger waved.

"I think I **should** worry about it," Cyril said.

"Don't worry about it," Krieger told him.

"I **am** worrying about it," Cyril said angrily. "Because every time you say not to worry about it, that's when I know I **should **worry about it! And it makes me worry about it even **more!**"

"Don't worry about it," Krieger said. "I didn't even put my own name on the containers. I put someone else's name."

"**Whose** name?" Cyril shouted. "**What **containers?"

"Don't…" Krieger began.

"If you say don't worry about it **one more time**…" Cyril warned in a menacing voice. "I will take these papers and shove them so far down your throat only your proctologist will find them!"

"Whoa!" Pam gasped.

"Oh my God!" Lana gasped.

"Is it **me**?" Cheryl whispered. "Does anyone else find it a turn on when Cyril gets all crazy menacing like that?"

"It's not just you," Ray admitted.

"Nope," Lana admitted with her eyes growing wider.

"It is an improvement," Pam agreed.

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"Oh, dear God what did you do **now?"** Cyril shouted.

"Uhh…." Krieger gulped.

"On second thought, don't tell me!" Cyril snapped. "I think I'd rather be surprised at the arraignment!"

"Oooh!" Cheryl looked out the window. "That looks like a big fire!"

"Oh God…" Cyril groaned.

Soon the Figgis Agency was down the block watching the flames consume several buildings. "Well at least we don't have to go to Mr. Packenelli anymore," Krieger shrugged.

"Should we be this close to the crime scene?" Lana asked.

"I don't think it matters Lana," Ray sighed. "This kind of has our fingerprints all over it."

"No way!" Krieger waved. "I made sure to wear gloves and wipe everything down!"

KA-BOOOOOOOOOM!

"There goes the Stamp Museum," Pam remarked.

"Maybe some of the stamps could **be saved**?" Cyril realized.

Pam added. "And maybe later sold to someone else at a later date?"

"I was thinking put in my personal collection but yeah," Cyril nodded. "That too."

"Ray…" Cyril began.

"I'm on it!" Ray zipped to get the stamps using his super speed.

"It's pointless for me to protest isn't it?" Lana sighed.

"Pretty much," Cheryl nodded.

"Another day," Cyril sighed. "Another reason for our neighbors to hate us."

"If this keeps up," Lana groaned. "We won't have any neighbors **left **on our street!"


End file.
